


Fist Of The Moon

by Hagoromo (thural)



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thural/pseuds/Hagoromo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anal bead Hogyoku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fist Of The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> For fic challenge.

The beautiful world in which Kurosaki Ichigo had no power: that was the world of color and sensation which Aizen Sousuke had mastery over. His will that marked the shape of things, his dictation that created the image seen, his disturbance which was the question that all action answered.

Ichigo, prone and relaxed, watched him as he levered himself above, the spill of his hair like the wending band of a river under the sunset as it poured over tireless black. In its warm umber there were threads of gold. Ichigo reached up to touch and to draw a lock astray. He'd felt it: the sensual weight of such long hair which suddenly covered his own head. In long hair you feel the little breezes and the shape of your own back. Aizen would feel the pluck of his fingers and also that they didn't tremble at all.

"It's impossible that you would become anything greater than me," He murmured tenderly, fitting his hips between Ichigo's spread thighs. There was no _thing_ which he didn't control; even this beautiful Ichigo in spreading darkness was just another such _thing_. Ichigo whose slow, steady, lazy gaze answered his unblinkingly: this union with him was just a meeting of powers and a stepstone to the next phase of their mutual evolution. Aizen's large calm hands slipped under the black rise of bandages, pulling the threads apart between his fingers with the delicacy possible only for those with great strength.

It was sort of delectable to unblacken the Kurosaki boy (he was not much of a boy like this): each line of his wrapping lifted away like the removal of a censor's bar. The even, pale, muscular body beneath reminded him of his own from when he was so young: easy power swelling his arms, flat strength in his guts. But Aizen Sousuke had never lain with his legs spread and his embrace open beneath some _man_. In the human's deep brown eyes there was neither wariness nor apathy; he just looked ready. Focused. It was admirable.

Nothing changed when Aizen's touch slid between Ichigo's legs and curled around his warm, satiny, and sadly flaccid penis. 

"You aren't looking forward to this? But Ichigo..." His mocking protest was gentle as words between lovers should be gentle. He stroked, once or twice; his fingers curled under to tease along the cunning folds of Ichigo's balls, even to hint at the humid dark little cleft of his ass, but there was no answering throb of erection. Aside from the hand that was still wrapped in Aizen's long locks, and his arm slung loosely about the incipient god's neck, there was nothing from Ichigo at all. He lay - still, silent, and prepared - in his torn clothes and the black flag of his hair.

Oh well.

" _I_ am ready, don't worry."

His fingers slick with illusory lubrication, he slid one into Ichigo up to the last knuckle. Ichigo caught his breath, there was a _hnn_ of his belly tensing, but his searingly hot ass was quiescent beneath Aizen's intrusion.

"Still nothing?"

He began to fuck his clever finger into Ichigo - not so much to "prepare" him as to award himself a lewd preview of what his own cock had coming. Hot, hot, snug and silky, despite whatever show of disinterest Ichigo might be pretending to his butt still "...sucks my finger in deeper and deeper," Aizen concluded, aloud. "Have you been waiting for this a long time, Kurosaki Ichigo?"

When there was no reply he added a second finger and moaned happily. The tight, taut, darkly erogenous pleasure of this ass - peerless. Ichigo was a virgin, surely. It felt like he would suck in everything Aizen gave him - as if that were possible for any _mortal_ , he thought smugly, more and more aroused as the scent of Ichigo's warm body suffused his senses.

"I think you enjoy this more than I do." He bent his head to Ichigo, his swift tongue tasting the young man's lips, tainting the lobe of his ear, painting encouragement over his throat. 

His penis was deliciously hard; he felt it bob stiffly which his every movement and dreamed of burying it inside the splendid butt that he scissored open and spread and felt enclosing his fingers like a glove. His calmness was intoxicating; Aizen felt a spiralling euphoria as he dreamed of everything he could do to this body, of all the forms of pleasure he could take from it, of exposing it to his hungers to the end of depravity as Ichigo would be strong enough...

"I want to enter you now, Ichigo. Tell me, do you think you're ready?"

He asked purely to be annoying; he knew it wouldn't matter what the answer was. But there was no answer at all as his sharp golden eyes met Ichigo's, unwavering. His delicate beauty was rewarding, the beauty of young men - androgynous and shapely, clean-limbed and clear-eyed.

Aizen seized his cock in his hand and crammed it up against Ichigo's ass, holding himself off with his other hand. "Then, I'm going in." Into the heat and darkness, into the feminine, reciprocal, yielding tight flesh of Kurosaki Ichigo, who lay quietly without even shuddering as he accepted the length of Aizen's hard cock into his body.

That hot suction which drew on the god like a divine wind....

The most bizarre sensation filled his ass - like something was sliding in it, pushing against its walls. But that was impossible...

"Do you know why the Hogyoku works?" Ichigo said, breaking this surreal silence, clamping his ass around Aizen's penis with a furious erotic grip. "Urahara told me after he got done sucking my dick one night. It's a probability sphere that's unfixed in time and can seize the ultimate outcome from any point in any future. That's why its owners can't be killed. The Hogyoku just pulls healthy flesh from some other future.

"Did you also know this thing that Sir Issac Nicodemus said? 'Nature abhors a vacuum' - my power of _Mugetsu_ makes a vacuum in _time_. The Hogyoku is irresistably drawn into this vacuum, and just as irresistably drawn back to its owner without the vacuum."

Aizen saw it at last: the funny little smirk that curled Ichigo's lips. " _Muge--_.... _muge...mu...muge..._ "

The Hogyoku, now reduced to an anal bead the size of a fist, shuddered and jerked and pistoned deep within Aizen's butt. Ichigo propped himself up on his elbows and chanted solemnly and cruelly, never quite finishing the word.

_Mugetsu_ , the end and origin of all things: the unformed moonless night within Kurosaki Ichigo's rump. Aizen had fallen into it and all his form and color descended with him into the erotic void.


End file.
